


A Hard Shell

by mandykaysfic



Series: 12 Days of Christmas 2017 [6]
Category: St Clare's - Enid Blyton
Genre: Gen, Tongue Twisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 15:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13274760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: Alison wants desperately to please the new Drama teacher.





	A Hard Shell

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Set in 'The Second Form at St Clare's'
> 
> 2\. Written for LJ's 12 Days of Christmas
> 
> On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me  
> Four hard shells

"Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.  
A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.  
If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,  
Where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?" 

Alison enunciated every word as clearly as she could, concentrating on making her lips push out the p-sounds as Miss Quentin recommended. She did so want hear the Drama teacher's sugared words of praise she was sure would be hers when she acted the part she'd been allocated. 

An annoying tickle on her cheek told her the stray lock of hair had fallen forward again. She tucked it behind her ear and sighed; there should only be a few more weeks until it grew long enough to stay there. If only she weren't so fair. Miss Quentin was extremely good looking, with dark hair and piecing black eyes, but copying Miss Quentin's hairstyle certainly made Alison feel more glamorous. 

Alison hoped Mirabel wouldn't be a nuisance in the next drama class. If only Miss Quentin would do as Miss Jenks did, and send Mirabel to stand outside in the corridor as soon as she interrupted the class with her silly sighs and groans, or her annoying whistling, or when she pretended to not pay attention.

She checked the time on her wristwatch. She had a little over ten minutes before the bell would ring for dinner. She would do one more tongue twister and then spend the rest of the time running through her part in the play. It would be perfect.

"She shells she shells by the she shore."

That wasn't right. Alison tried again. Unlike Peter and his stupid pickled peppers, or Betty Botter and her bitter butter, this was a single sentence.

"She _sells_ she sells by the sea shore."

That was a little better. She took the next repetition slowly, sounding each word clearly. There! She could do it. Confidently, she spoke it again at a regular speed.

"She sells see sells by the she shore."

Alison stamped her foot. Why was she finding this so difficult? Saying eight little words aloud should be easy.

"I saw Susie sitting in a shoeshine shop." Eight words with the 'S' sound, all perfectly spoken. 

To be sure, she tried another sentence. Miss Quentin's instruction for this one was to repeat it three times.

"Six sticky skeletons. Six sticky skeletons. Six sticky steletons." She stumbled on the final skeleton, but the rest of the words came out as they should.

That was close enough, Alison decided, and tried to sell sea shells once more. It was no good. The dinner bell rang and she sighed with relief; these shells were simply too hard for her poor tongue to manage.


End file.
